


Chaotic Confessions

by blythe dragon (Gemini_Dragon)



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-21
Updated: 2013-01-29
Packaged: 2017-11-26 10:13:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/649473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gemini_Dragon/pseuds/blythe%20dragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The way Maka figures it, there oughta be a rulebook about what to do when you finally realize you've fallen in love with your best friend. Especially the part about how to tell him...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my first shot at a Soul Eater fanfic! As I've yet to finish watching/reading the whole of the series (I've been a proud member of the SE and Soul/Maka fandom since October of 2012), what I've written may be full of weirdness, OOCness and other fun stuff...you have been warned! What I'm shooting for is fluff and WAFF - as I'm a total sucker for stories that contain it - but whether or not I get there is rather up in the air right now.
> 
> I don't own Soul Eater. However, I'll have you know that I am #564, 424 in line to claim a bit of ownership in this wonderful series, and- ooo! They just called a number!
> 
> ...#16. Crap. Seems like I've got quite a ways to go.

"I'm home."

"So…how was it?"

"Okay, I guess." Actually, it wasn't okay. It was odd, weird, wrong even – Maka didn't realize that doing something as simple as going out on a casual date with a group of friends without Soul would make her feel disloyal to him somehow. There was no censure in his voice, no stiffness in his posture as he sprawled on the couch watching TV, yet she had a nameless fear that a rift was beginning to open between them regardless.

She had to admit to herself that she'd done the group date thing primarily to prove to herself that she didn't  _have_  to have Soul with her all of the time, that her life didn't revolve around him being with her 24/7.

The empty feeling in her heart told her differently.

"Well, as long as you had a good time."

Maka opened her mouth to reply, then closed it. A dull ember of resentment flared to life momentarily – he didn't even sound as if he'd missed her! Did she honestly  _sound_  like she'd had fun? Apparently her being gone all day wasn't affecting him like it was affecting her, and she felt simultaneously foolish and weary. Telling him that she'd missed his sarcastic, anti-social, slouchy self seemed like it would do nothing more than encourage him to begin an endless bout of teasing – or worse, maybe all he'd do is give her an indifferent shrug and grunt. She really didn't have the mental energy to deal with either possible response.

"Yeah," she replied tiredly, toeing off her boots. "I had a good time."

Soul glanced over his shoulder at the tone of her voice. "You okay, Maka?"

The concern in his voice made her eyes unexpectedly sting with tears. She blinked them away furiously, hoping he wouldn't notice the action in the dim light of the front hall. "Yep." She made her lips stretch into a semblance of a smile. "I'm just kinda beat, that's all. Think I'll head to bed. See you in the morning."

Soul shifted in his position, peering closely at his meister's face. He seemed to be on the verge of saying something, but Maka couldn't bear to hear what it might be. Giving him an awkward wave, she shuffled down the hall to her room.

"Maka…"

* * *

Huddled under her covers, Maka stared unseeingly at the wall underneath her room's one window. Cool starlight bathed her room with a dim silver glow, creating soft shadows in the corners. Usually that sight comforted her as she went to bed, as it reminded her of Soul, but this night she ignored it. She didn't want to think about her weapon partner tonight; she just wanted to fall into a dreamless sleep that would let her escape from her whirling emotions. She'd get up in the morning, act like everything was normal, and she would  _not_   burden him with her clingy feelings.

In the hour she'd been in bed, Maka still hadn't managed to convince herself.

She  _did_  manage to take some pride in the fact that her heart didn't leap too far into mouth when Soul sat on the edge of her bed. She'd been so lost in her chaotic thoughts that she'd never heard him quietly open her door and walk softly across the room.

"Maka." His smooth, low voice washed across her, at once comforting her and setting her nerves on edge. "I know you're awake." She kept silent; the only indication that she'd heard him was to duck her head under the covers.

"Hey." An involuntary shudder raced through her spine as he placed a warm hand on her back. "What's wrong? You know that you can talk to me."

Yes, she knew. She also knew that if she opened her mouth to answer him, all of her jumbled emotions and feelings would pour out in an unrelenting flood, drowning them both in her fear and longing. She'd always taken pride in the fact that she felt she could handle whatever life threw at her, but that strength seemed to have deserted her this time around.  _She_  couldn't even figure out exactly what she was feeling, or why she was feeling like this now; how in the world would she begin to tell him?

Soul shifted, bringing one leg up on the bed and moving the hand that had been gently rubbing her back up to the loose hair that had escaped from her cave of covers. He played with the loose strands, admiring the way the starlight turned the color of her honey blonde tresses into a slightly darker version of his own stark white hair.

"I'm not leaving til you tell me what's bothering you,' he said quietly. "Did something happen today to upset you?"

The gentle timbre of his voice, combined with the relaxing action of his fingers playing with her hair, loosened the ball of tension in her enough to free her frozen vocal cords. "No," she whispered.

"Then what's the matter? I don't like seeing you like this. Like a shadow of yourself."

"It's just…" She trailed off, unsure how to put her thoughts into coherent sentences. While his presence and the fact that he cared enough about her to try and find out what was wrong had painlessly knocked down the insulating walls she'd built around herself, she couldn't seem to find a starting point in her turbulent musings.

The silence was becoming deafening, at least to her. She had to say  _something_! Uncovering her head (yet keeping her back turned to him; she wasn't ready to face him, not yet), she blurted out, "Did you – did you miss me today?"

"Eh?" Startled by her question, Soul paused in the finger-combing of her hair. "Well, no, not really."

"I see." Maka sighed, silently cursing the tears that pricked her closed eyes. At least he had answered honestly. It would have been worse if he had lied just to make her feel better.

Sensing her distress at his answer, he hastily clarified. "I mean, it was nice having the apartment to myself all day."

Despite herself, Maka smiled slightly. "So you could drink milk straight out of the carton without getting yelled at?"

"Yeah. Wait!" Soul scowled at the back of her head. "There's no proof that I actually did. And I'll deny it in court!"

Maka snorted a laugh into her pillow before she could help herself.

In spite of his chagrin, Soul grinned at the sound of her amusement. "That's more like it. Why d'you wanna know if I missed you or not, anyways?"

"It was – weird, going out with everybody and you not being there." Maka flipped onto her back, looking at her partner out of the corner of her eyes. Their banter, so much a part of their normal daily conversations, helped her answer him honestly and without hesitation. "So I just wondered if it was strange for you, too. Y'know, that I wasn't hanging out with you today. Because we're together almost all of the time." She knew she'd started to ramble, but her relief in being able to talk to him without hiding away temporarily short-circuited her inner censor. "Or was it a relief to you that I wasn't here today? Bugging you, I mean. 'Cause I know I must bug you, being with you all the time. Well, almost all the time. That is-" Mortified that she was pointlessly blathering now, Maka abruptly shut her mouth. Even if he'd never thought of her as a needy fool before, he certainly would now!

Soul didn't answer her, but the slight shaking of her bed alerted her to the fact that he was silently laughing – no, make that chortling out loud. A dull heat crept up her neck into her face, and closing her eyes she moaned quietly and turned away from him again, thoroughly embarrassed. "Never mind. Just – forget I said anything."

"Maka, Maka, Maka." Still chuckling, Soul put a hand on her shoulder, tugging at the collar of her sleep shirt to make her turn towards again. Reluctantly she did so, keeping her eyes closed and fervently hoping her face wasn't glowing in the dark like a radioactive tomato. Gah, what had possessed her to blather on like that?! Soul would never take her seriously again.


	2. Chapter 2

Soul managed to stifle his chuckles after a few moments, though the sight of Maka's furiously blushing face and mortified expression made him want to burst out into laughter all over again. It was extraordinarily rare for his meister to totally lose her composure and babble on like that, but when it did happen, he found it highly amusing.

"Y'know, it's always a treat to see you get worked up over stupid stuff," he remarked with a lazy grin, poking her forehead.

Maka's eyes snapped open, pinning him with an incredulous stare. "Stupid?" she sputtered, slapping his finger away from her. "I'm trying to tell you what's bothering me, and you think it's  _stupid_?!" She sat up suddenly, angrily shoving at him. "You – you insensitive  _cretin_!"

"Wha-?" Surprised by her sudden outburst, Soul wasn't prepared for her shove, and abruptly found himself making a painful acquaintance with the floor via his right side.

"Dammit, Maka!" Sitting up and rubbing his bruised shoulder, he glared up at her. "What the hell did you do that for?"

"Why do you think, idiot?" she hissed. "Just get out!"

"You violent, mood-swinging… **ARGH**!" Baffled, frustrated and more than a little irritated about being dumped on the floor, Soul got to his feet. "What is  _with_  you? I was just trying to find out what's bugging you, and-"

"And what do you do? You call my feelings stupid!" Crossing her arms, Maka glared at the covers pooled about her lap. She was starting to feel bad about her furious reaction, but she wasn't quite ready to apologize for her behavior. "Why should I tell you anything?"

Hissing out an agitated breath, Soul rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Forget I asked." Rotating his injured shoulder to make sure he could move it – landing on that hardwood floor had  _hurt_  – he turned to leave.

"…wait."

Soul had half a mind just to keep walking and leave Maka stewing in her unpredictable mood swings by herself, but he found himself pausing. Yes, he had to admit to himself that part of it was the apology he heard in her voice, but mostly it was the fact that he'd never purposely deserted his partner when she was in need; sore arm and aggravation about her recent antics aside, he wasn't about to start now.

"What."

The rapidly forming bruise on his shoulder didn't necessarily mean he had to be gracious about it, however.

"Look, I'm sorry." As rare as it was for Maka to lose control of her emotions, it was even more unusual for her to sound so forlorn. Soul turned around, taking in her hunched shoulders and drawn-up knees. She scrubbed at her eyes with the heels of her hands, then looked up at him, smiling wanly. "I probably shouldn't have pushed you off of the bed."

"Damn straight." He knew that he really shouldn't ask the question foremost on his mind – she had plenty of ammo in the form of thick books on her nightstand, well within reach for a room-spanning Maka Chop – but he wanted to know, if only to confirm or eliminate one possible reason for her current behavior. "At the risk of long distance and possible permanent injury to my head, I gotta ask: are you on the rag?"

Maka scowled at him. "You've got  _such_  a way with words. No, I'm not. And I hope you realize the only reason I'm not bashing your skull in for asking something like that so tactlessly is because I still feel a _little_  bad about your abrupt visit with the floor. However," she warned with an upraised finger as he started to grin, "don't push your luck."

"Whatever you say." Soul studied her face, sliding his hands inside the pockets of his pajama pants. "At least you're acting more like yourself."

"Well, that's good to know, I guess. I don't…" She trailed off, looking pensive.

"Eh?"

"Never mind." Shaking her head, Maka scooted down in her bed, dropping her head on her pillow. "I'll see you in the morning, 'kay?"

Soul frowned slightly. He'd thought she'd gotten all the weird emotional crap out of her system, but if there was more to it… "Are you sure-"

"I'll tell you when I'm ready, Soul. Promise." With a tired – but genuine – smile, she turned on her side towards the wall, a blatant signal that their conversation was at an end.

Soul stared at her back for a moment. "I'm going to hold you to that, Maka. There shouldn't be any secrets between us – it's not cool." He slipped out of her room, quietly shutting the door behind him.

* * *

This wasn't the first time Maka had acted strangely out of character, Soul mused as he crawled into bed. There had been several other occurrences, spanning the course of the last several months. And it wasn't even the first time – or the twentieth – that her erratic temperament had resulted in a furious attack upon his person.

Speaking of which…he could definitely rule out PMS as a plausible excuse for her behavior, and as he almost had a better sense of when her "time of the month" was coming than she did (she hadn't purchased and consumed vast quantities and varieties of chocolate in the past few days, nor had she been gobbling ibuprofen like it was candy), he felt confident that her scornful denial was nothing less than the truth.

What was bothering him about this latest instance of weird behavior was the fact that she'd left the apartment that morning in high spirits, happily looking forward to spending time with some of the other DWMA meisters and weapons. Her doleful responses to his questions when she came home had set little warning bells off in the back of Soul's mind. The fake smile Maka had given him before shuffling off to her room had made those alarms ring louder; something must have happened during the day, as he'd had no prior indicators that she was going to come home in such a dejected mood.

He'd decided to let her be in her room for a while; Soul had learned over the years they'd been partners and roommates that pestering her too soon after one of her erratic mood swings generally led to him getting hurt in highly painful and possibly illegal ways, and at the end of it all he'd never find out just what the hell was wrong with her in the first place until she'd calmed down.

The way he figured it, he'd gotten off lucky tonight with just a shove to the floor and a bruised shoulder. God knew he'd gotten worse for less.

Maybe Maka considered his inquisitiveness about her general health and well-being as nosy, but dammit all to hell, if he didn't look out for her, she'd wind up doing something reckless and impulsive and just plain  _stupid_! How was he in the wrong for wanting to know if his meister was doing all right? Their partnership depended on several factors, one of those being a functional, balanced emotional state between him and Maka. It made life at home, school and on the battlefield a lot easier to cope with; it made dealing with the black blood currently humming through his veins much less of a burden than by all rights it should be. If there was something wrong with Maka's physical, mental or emotional state, he wanted to know about it so he could  _do_  something about it, if at all possible.

Damn stubborn girl.

But...Soul had to honestly admit to himself that he really couldn't imagine his life without Maka. It sometimes amazed him that somebody so straightforward, impulsive, nerdy and stubborn (and violent, can't forget that) could resonate so seamlessly with his soul, occupy such a large portion of his daily thoughts, and hold his fragile heart hostage. In the shade of her leaf-green eyes, he could always find shelter from the hardships of the outside world.

Great. Now he was getting all mind-numbingly mushy and poetic. Even mentally spouting crap like that was the epic height of uncoolness; he couldn't even begin to imagine actually  _saying_  that to Maka. Her friendship meant the world to him, and he wasn't about to upset that balance by hinting that maybe, just maybe...he wanted more from her than just friendship.

Sightlessly gazing at his ceiling, Soul allowed himself a small sliver of hope that perhaps the time when he could tell her that would come soon.

After all, tomorrow was another day. And another chance.

 


	3. Chapter 3

It had been several days since the night of Maka's STEW episode (Stupid and Terrible Emotional Weakness; also known as  _That Night_ ), and life in the Albarn/Evans-Eater household had since resumed its normal routine. Of course, their idea of "normal" included Soul's tendency to oversleep on school days, the occasional burned dinner, grueling practice sessions after classes were over, arguments over who forgot to clean out the lint trap in the dryer, and dealing with Blair's tendency to come home in the middle of the night after she'd gotten off work (which really shouldn't have been a problem, except for the fact that Blair would frequently forget her key at home, and her wailing at the front door to be let in had gotten her human companions several dirty looks from their neighbors, as Blair's extraordinarily loud caterwauling usually occurred around 2:30 in the morning).

Yep, everything was back to normal.

...well, almost.

Soul hadn't pressured her to talk about  _That Night_ , but occasionally Maka would see the silent question about it in his eyes, and the only answer she had for him was a small, rueful smile and an equally silent plea for more time. She knew that his patience in waiting for an answer would only last so long before he dragged it out of her one way or the other; besides, she had never successfully been able to keep secrets from him for long periods of time. Nor had she really wanted to, until now.

But she knew that she had to handle the ramifications of her behavior from  _That Night_  correctly. The possibility that the trust and companionship of her closest confidante, the only person who fully understood and accepted her, could be permanently altered because of carelessness on her part was unacceptable. She couldn't bear to imagine how awkward and tense their relationship might become if that happened.

Maka didn't like unresolved problems; they gnawed at her sensibilities until she became frustrated and twitchy. Therefore she was determined she was going to solve her current dilemma, using logic as her weapon.

And logic stated that she should start by making a list of all the reasons why she was in love with her best friend.

"Whatcha doin'?"

"GAH!" Maka jumped in her seat at the kitchen table, the elbow she had been leaning on knocking over her glass of water. Quickly rescuing the notebook she had been writing in, she looked up at the person who'd startled her from her musings. "When did you get home?"

"Just now. I thought I'd said 'Hi, I'm home!' loud enough for you to hear me."

"Erg. Just hand me something to wipe this up." Maka closed her notebook and set it on the bar between the kitchen and the living room, then took the offered paper towels to mop up the water pooling on the kitchen table. "You're home early, aren't you?"

"Yeah, well, it was a slow night at the club, so they told me to go on home." Leaning against the refrigerator, Blair gestured at the notebook Maka had set down. "What's in there? A grocery list? We just went shopping a few days ago, y'know."

"It's not a grocery list," Maka replied grumpily, tossing the wet paper towels in the trash. "It's a – different list. Of stuff I need to write down."

"Oh?" Intrigued, Blair sauntered toward the bar, reaching for the red spiral notebook. "I wanna see!"

"NO!" Grabbing the notebook just before the transformed magical cat touched it, Maka backed away, clutching it to her chest. "It's a- it's private!"

 _That_  was definitely the wrong thing to say; Maka realized her mistake as soon as the words were out of her mouth, but it was too late. Blair's golden eyes lit up with curiosity, then narrowed in mischief.

"Oho! I  _definitely_  wanna see it, then," Blair purred, slowly stalking her prey around the small kitchen. "What's so private that you don't want to show li'l ol' Blair? Is it something about Scythie Boy, hmmmm?"

"W-what? NO!" Maka sputtered, red-faced and edging slowly towards the doorway that led to the hallway. "What makes you- it's just personal, that's all! Nothing to see!"

"Uh-huh." Lowering her shoulders and twitching her rump in anticipation, Blair prepared to pounce. "If there's nothing to see, why is Maka-chan all nervous? I just want a little peek…"

"No! ACK!  **Stay away**!"

In the ensuing pandemonium, neither girl heard the front door open, or a disgruntled voice say, "I could hear you guys all the way down on the street, y'know. You're gonna get…the neighbors…on…our…case…" The rest trailed off into stupefied silence as Soul reached the kitchen doorway and took in the scene before him. He wasn't aware until later that his nose had started to bleed before his mind fully processed what he was seeing.

Desperate and only having scant seconds before Blair pounced on her, Maka had thrown her notebook on top of the fridge then proceeded to valiantly try to keep the magical cat away from her goal. In addition to the two kitchen chairs overturned, Maka's empty water glass underneath the kitchen window, the table leaning crazily against the wall that supported the bar counter top several open cabinet doors and drawers, and several lengths of paper towel draped over the whole mess, Soul was graced with the sight of his meister with her back against the refrigerator, one of her feet pushing against Blair's hip (and somehow in the process her toes caught on the waistband of Blair's black leather capris, pulling them down enough to show the high-cut sides of Blair's hot pink thong), her right arm swatting at Blair's outstretched hand and her left hand pushing against Blair's well-endowed chest. Though Blair was more intent on getting to the notebook than wrestling with Maka, the hand that wasn't straining for the forbidden prize had latched onto Maka's oversized T-shirt, pulling one side of it down and exposing Maka from neck to the swell of one breast. Both girls were panting and flushed, with Blair's determined growls and Maka's breathless exclamations of "No!" "You  _can't_  have it!" "Quit it!" the only other sounds in the annihilated kitchen.

The sound of a bookbag dropping to the tile floor alerted Maka to the fact that there was an audience present. Peering around Blair's torso, she blanched. "S-Soul! Um, this isn't – I'm not – that is-" The distraction of seeing her partner witness such an outrageous exhibition cost her the slim advantage of being able to keep Blair at bay.

Soul just stood there, jaw hanging open and eyes wide and glazed.

Crowing with triumph, Blair snatched the notebook from the top of the fridge. "Got it!"

Soul continued to just stand there, jaw hanging open and eyes wide and glazed. A small trail of blood leaked from one nostril.

" **NO**!" With a strength born of panic, Maka grabbed at the notebook in Blair's hand, and the ensuing scuffle launched the item into the air, cover open and pages riffling-

-straight at Soul's immobilized face.

 _Ker-smack!_ Not mentally aware enough to avoid the paper missile flying his way, Soul staggered backwards into the doorjamb, the much-abused notebook covering his face like a spiral-bound shroud. He recovered enough to catch the notebook before it fell to the floor, though his shell-shocked expression didn't change.

Maka's wail of "Noooo, why me?!" was drowned out by a gleeful voice. "Soul got the notebook! Yay!" Quickly disentangling herself from Maka's weak grip, Blair shifted to her cat form and scampered across the kitchen floor to jump on top of Soul's head. "You got the prize, Soul-kun!"

"Wh-wha...huh?"

"Maka-chan's notebook, silly!" Blair clarified happily. "Seems like there's something written in there that Maka-chan doesn't want me to see, so  _you_  read it, 'kay? Then you can tell me what it is!"

Slowly regaining use of both his overloaded brain and his speech functions, Soul slowly rolled his eyes upward in a vain attempt to look at the cat perched on his head. "I repeat – huh?"

"I  _said_ -"

Maka hadn't been idle in the meager time she'd had to recoup her reeling senses during to Blair and Soul's little exchange. Recovery of her wits was immediate as soon as she saw the notebook in her partner's hands – and high levels of embarrassment and anger helped her twitching hands find a suitable weapon of divine punishment, as unfortunately she had no books in the kitchen.

" **MA. KA. CHO** **OOOOOOOOOOP!** "

Wasn't it just  _lucky_ for her that the heavy plastic pitcher they used for making juice had conveniently fallen out of one of the open cabinets and was well within reach of her questing hands? Not to mention she'd also managed to land an improvised Maka Chop on Blair, a rare feat in itself.

Nice to know that the goddess of serendipity hadn't totally deserted her after all.

* * *

After much incoherent yelling and cursing, strained apologies on Maka's part, sullen acceptance of said apologies on Soul's, and a reluctant joint effort between the two of them to clean up the kitchen (Blair had hightailed it out of the apartment right after she woke up from her involuntary nap, the little sneak; she'd had just as big a part in tearing up the kitchen as Maka did!), the weapon meister was finally able to escape to the sanctuary of her room. With a sigh of relief, Maka leaned against her closed door, then balefully eyed the battered notebook she'd tossed on her desk while Blair and Soul were still unconscious.

All she'd wanted to do was get her thoughts on paper, as a first step in figuring out why she loved her currently - and justifiably - cranky partner…yes, maybe Maka Chopping him into oblivion was going a little overboard considering he hadn't had a chance to read anything she'd written, but she wasn't ready to share those thoughts with him yet!

 _Especially since my "logical list" isn't really logical at all_ , Maka thought sourly, sitting at her desk and flipping open the red notebook. Sighing again, she gazed at the wrinkled page that contained what she'd written before the wild rumpus with Blair started.

_**What I Like About Soul** _

_His smile, shark teeth and all._

_His eyes._  (Maka noted with a touch of grim amusement that a drop of blood from Soul's nosebleed had landed right on the word "eyes".)

_He's sarcastic, sometimes lazy, kinda nosy and possessive, and DEFINITELY stubborn as all get out; but he's also loyal, compassionate, supportive…and simply the best friend I've ever had._

_I can trust him, like no other._

_Why do I love him? For all the reasons I listed, and…_

Maka stared down at the answer that had taken her so long to write down.

_..because I just do._

Obviously, Maka reasoned as she tore the paper out of the notebook, crumpled it up, and tossed it in her trashcan, trying to use logic wasn't going to be of any help. It seemed it was time to ask for assistance, since trying to do it on her own wasn't really getting her anywhere.

"Oi, Maka." Soul's voice floated through her closed door. "I'm gonna order pizza for dinner tonight. Think you can set the table  _without_ destroying the kitchen?"

"Snarky little…" she muttered, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, I'll do it," she said loud enough for him to hear. "I'll be there in a minute."

Once the sound of Soul's footsteps faded towards the front of the apartment, Maka pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and quickly typed a text message. She hesitated before hitting SEND; once she went with this course of action, there was no turning back. Firming her lips, she jabbed the button before she could change her mind.

All she knew for sure was that she couldn't do this by herself.


	4. Chapter 4

There were times that Soul found himself wondering if he was totally brainless for living with two temperamental females.  One day there’s chaos in the kitchen, with half-clothed women and flying notebooks and paper towels everywhere, and the next morning all is back on an even keel, as if what had transpired the evening before had never happened.

  
The tender bruise on top of his head was a painful reminder not to take such peace for granted; it could change at the drop of a hat.  Or at the swing of a hard plastic pitcher to the head by a mortified and angry partner, Soul thought grimly as he slouched into the kitchen for breakfast, warily eyeing the object that had knocked him unconscious less than twenty-four hours earlier.

  
Sure, it was sitting there all nice and innocent, full of a fresh batch of orange juice, but he didn’t doubt for a minute that it could come flying across the table, aimed at his much abused head if he said or did the wrong thing.

  
Most days he had no idea what would turn out to be the wrong thing.

   
At least this was Saturday; if he got creamed upside the head again, he’d have some time to recover before classes started up again on Monday.

  
Soul opted for playing it safe by ignoring the juice and getting a bottle of water out of the refrigerator, scooting around Maka as she turned from the stove with a plate full of french toast in her hands.

  
“There’s orange juice if you want it, Soul,” she commented, setting the plate down on the table next to a bottle of syrup and a small bowl of strawberries.

  
“After yesterday, you’ll have to pardon me if I happen to have an aversion to having anything to do with that instrument of torture,” he muttered, sliding into his seat at the table.  He started piling several pieces of French toast on his plate, then proceeded to drown them all in syrup.

  
“How many times do I have to apologize before you quit whining about what happened?” Maka retorted as she sat down, stabbing two pieces of fruit with her fork and dropping them on her plate.  “I don’t know why you’re still upset about it.”

  
Soul choked on a mouthful of French toast.  “Here I was,” he sputtered after he recovered, “pretty much minding my own business when I get home, and what happens?  I walk into a kitchen that’s totally trashed, I get attacked by a flying notebook, I’ve got a cat jumping on my head spouting something about said notebook, and while I’m trying to figure out what the hell is going on, _you_ bash me with _that_ -“ he pointed accusingly with his fork at the plastic pitcher of orange juice, “-and knock me out cold!  So excuse me, “ he concluded testily, “for _still_ being upset over such a little thing.”

  
The atmosphere at the table was strained for a few moments, as Maka toyed with a strawberry on her plate, eyes averted from the white-haired boy across from her who was sulkily shoving pieces of French toast in his mouth.

  
Maka sighed, breaking the silence.  “For the last time, Soul, I’m sorry, alright?  If Blair hadn’t made such a big deal of everything...”  She stuffed a strawberry into her mouth, chewing angrily.

  
“What were you writing in that book anyways?”

  
It was Maka’s turn to choke on her food.  “Uh - that is - “

  
Soul looked up from his plate.  “What?”

  
“N-nothing,” she stammered, looking away.  “It was nothing, really.  Just some - stuff.”

  
“Is that so,” he drawled, smirking.  “Your blushing face says otherwise, Maka.”

  
She fidgeted in her chair, pushing her neatly cut pieces of French toast around her plate.  “I don’t want to talk about it now, okay?”

  
Soul polished off the last bite of his breakfast then leaned back in his chair, regarding his meister with a raised eyebrow.  “Does it have anything to do with why you’ve been acting so weird off and on the past few weeks?” he asked.

  
When the flush deepened in Maka’s cheeks, he knew he’d hit the nail on the head, or at least come close.  Picking up the empty dishes from the table, Soul stood up and walked to the sink.  “You know that we still need to talk about that, Maka.”

  
“I-I know.”  Even with his back turned, Soul could hear her fidgeting even more.  This could be serious - the only time Maka was restless and flustered during a conversation was when it was something she did _not_ want to talk about.  The more antsy she became, the more reluctant she was about saying what was on her mind.

  
Or answering a question she really didn’t know how or want to answer.

  
“I just-”

  
_~I celebrate the body and enjoy good health_   
_And I gets down with my bad self_   
_It's all good from the front to the back_   
_Two snaps and a clap for a body like that~_

  
Even without using soul resonance, Soul could clearly hear Maka’s relieved thought:   _Saved by the cell phone_!  Sighing, he turned around, watching as she checked her text messages.

  
“Maka, do I even want to know _why_ you have that as a ringtone?”

  
Waving a distracted hand over her shoulder, she scanned her phone’s screen.  “Liz put this on my phone so I’d know it was her when she texts me,” she replied absently.

  
“Of course.  I should have known.”  Soul rolled his eyes.  “What does Miss “I Am The Body Beautiful” want, anyways?”

  
“GAH!  Igottagorightnow!” was not the answer Soul was expecting.  Before he could even open his mouth to say “What?”, Maka was flying out of the kitchen in a flurry of pigtails and red and white checkered pajamas.

  
By the time he made it to the doorway of the kitchen, Maka was hustling from her room to the bathroom.  And, once again, before he could say anything, his meister popped into the bathroom and slammed the door.

  
Slightly irritated now, Soul decided to wait for Maka at the front door.  By leaning against it, he figured she couldn’t get out of the apartment without getting past him - unless she resorted to yanking him out of the way.  Considering the hurry she was in, that was a totally plausible scenario.

  
When the bathroom door banged open four minutes later, Soul braced himself for impact, but was granted a temporary reprieve when she skidded just short of slamming into him and dove for her boots instead.

  
“Maka-”

  
“Don’t have time to talk right now,” she grunted, jamming on one boot, then proceeding to hop around as she tried to pull on the other.

  
Soul felt his eyes glaze over as he was treated to a flash of well-toned thighs as Maka’s antics made the jean skirt she was wearing hike up dangerously.   _Hot damn, those legs...!_  Shaking his head to clear it, he turned his attention back to focusing on preventing his meister from bolting through the front door before he had a chance to make her stop and _listen_ to him for a friggin’ minute.

  
As soon as Maka succeeded getting her second boot on, he darted forward and grabbed her upper arms.

  
“What are you doing, Soul? I’ve got to-”

  
“You’ve gotta go, yeah, I figured as much,” he interrupted impatiently.  “But just hold on for a sec, will you?  For one thing, where _is_ it you’re in such a tearing hurry to get to?”

  
Her emerald gaze slid away from his slightly frustrated, questioning look.  “Um - Tsubaki and Black*Star’s place.  Liz, Patty and Tsubaki are waiting for me there.”

  
“You tore out of the kitchen and got dressed in less than five minutes just to go visit with the girls?”  Soul was incredulous.  “What, is it a life or death emergency or something?”

  
“You could say that,” Maka muttered, trying to pull free of his grasp.  “Soul, I’ve really got to go...”

  
Soul realized he was fighting a losing battle by trying to keep his partner from getting to her out-of-the blue girl time summons.  It seemed like their talk about Maka’s strange behavior would be postponed.  Again.  As he released her arms and stepped away from the front door, a sudden thought struck him.

  
“You're going over there to tell them what’s been bothering you lately, aren't you,” he stated quietly.  Maka froze in the act of turning the doorknob.  “You'll go running to the girls, but you won’t tell me.”

  
At the tinge of hurt that had crept into Soul’s voice, Maka turned around and grasped his hands.  “Soul, I-” she began, pausing when she saw him turn his face away.  Reaching up with one hand to cup his chin and gently turn his face towards her, she tried again.  “I know it seems like I’m keeping secrets from you,” she said slowly once his crimson eyes met hers, “and I know we need to sit down and talk.  I’m not trying to run away from you, I just - I need to go and do this now.  When I get back,” she added in a low, firm tone, “I’ll tell you what’s been going on with me recently.  I promise, Soul.”

   
He searched her gaze for a moment, gauging the truth of her words.  Reassured by what he saw, Soul placed his free hand over the one cradled against his cheek.  “All right,” he said quietly.  “When you get back, we talk.  And,” he added with a slight grin, dropping his hand so he could open the door for her, “this time there’s no backing out.”

  
Maka grinned back as she hurried out.  “Right.  See you later!”

  
“Later.”  Soul heaved a sigh as he closed the door and leaned against it.  “It’s been a helluva morning,” he mumbled, running a hand roughly through his hair as he headed back to the kitchen to do the dishes.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't own the song "I Am The Body Beautiful" by Salt n Pepa...but I'm noticing that I do like to give Maka strange ringtones in my SoMa fics. It may become a habit...


End file.
